I want to let you go and not have the daily presence of anguish linger in the many glass facets indiscrete thoughts crystal balls I carry— in my mind this bottle sipping fire languishing in spice burning of past lost to fantasy pained by fallacy maybe it’s for best we don’t talk— for the glass fragile coating of memory would crack and shatter falling into the aged-mash bitter pine and salted skies of smoked peat and particulate matter.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Sandip Kalal on Unsplash

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